


The Master Plan

by Parks and Fluff (GamblingDementor)



Series: Parks and Rec AU [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assistant!Hamilton, Assistant's Assistant!Burr, Cat Lady Aaron Burr, Department Director!Washington, Deputy Director!Lafayette, F/M, Fluff, Gen, George Washington IS Ron Swanson, Parks and Rec AU, Self-Indulgent, Smut, Social Worker!Eliza
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6647716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamblingDementor/pseuds/Parks%20and%20Fluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Aaron Burr became the underdog of the Parks Department, he never expected to meet the loveliest, wittiest, smartest woman in City Hall or even all of Pawnee, and yet Theodosia Prevost stumbled into his life and brightened everything up. </p><p>or</p><p>When Alexander Hamilton became Parks Department Director George Washington's assistant, he had plans for the Department through the next decade. Why not start by putting a park on Lot 48?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter with explicit content contains a note about it at the beginning. If it has nothing, it's perfectly safe for work!

Sometimes, Aaron believes fate is toying with him.

 

Against all odds, he gets hired as the assistant for the Director of the Department of Parks and Recreation George Washington.

" _Bons_ — I mean, good evening, _monsieur_ Burr?" A thickly accented voice comes through the phone the very night after the job interview.It comes as a surprise to Aaron. After George Washington spent most of the interview checking the time, before dismissing him right in the middle of a sentence, the message seemed clear. He was not expecting a call back."This is Aaron Burr, yes.""You thoroughly impressed Mr. Washington at the interview today, _monsieur_! You got the job. Will you start working on Monday, yes? See you on Monday!"He hangs up before Aaron can say a word. The French man had been there during the interview, carefully taking notes, smiling, but Aaron really did not get the feeling that either man was willing to put up with him, much less _impressed_ by him. _Oh well._ A job is a job, especially at City Hall, where everything of importance happens. He clears up his schedule to make time for his new job and reads up a little bit on the newest projects of the Parks Department. He thinks he's ready.On Monday, it soon becomes obvious that this was all a mistake."What are you doing here?" George Washington greets him as soon as he opens the door of the Parks Department.

He is sitting at his office, sorting through papers, and Aaron doesn't think he even lifted up his eyes, yet he recognized him.

 

Aaron pauses. He may be used to others not sharing his standards of politeness, but this is a new low. He smiles. He waits.

 

"Lafayette?"

 

"Sir!"

 

The lanky French man with the puffy ponytail whom Aaron recognizes as the man who called him darts out of his office across the department, answering Washington's call like his life depends on it. Before long, the misunderstanding shines through. Two people were interviewed the same day, Aaron and a certain Alexander Hamilton. The other one actually got the job, but Washington meant and said something, and Deputy Director Lafayette understood something else, and called the wrong man. 

 

Alexander arrives roughly eight minutes after Washington calls him to rectify the mistake. Long hair tied in a messy bun, messenger bag overflowing with binders and loose paper, eyes bagging from lack of sleep, Alexander Hamilton certainly is… something. Hopefully something good.

 

"Hello hello hello! Sorry I'm late!"

 

He starts shaking everyone's hand around the office, all the while spouting new ideas for projects and changes he wants to bring to the Parks Department. Aaron now understands why Washington wanted him called the very same day he got interviewed. He seems to be the hero the department needed − or he certainly believes himself to be. They assign him a desk next to Washington's office which he somehow manages to bury under stacks of paper in a matter of seconds.

 

"What about the other, Sir?" Lafayette asks after all is done.

 

Aaron has been standing in a corner, quietly waiting for others to tell him what would become of him. George Washington gives him a long look, taking him in from head to toes. Aaron gives his best smile. Washington shrugs.

 

"How do you feel about having your own assistant, Alexander?" 

 

"Sir?" Lafayette asks, confused. 

 

"I had no assistant for over ten years. I believe we have the funds," he says with finality. "Alex?"

 

Alexander doesn't even take one second to think before nodding in agreement. Whether Washington acted out of fondness for Lafayette who made a mistake, whether it was some show of honor and dignity, a favor for his new assistant or maybe pity for Aaron having been slighted, Aaron will never know. He takes the job.

 

He is given a cheap plastic table right next to the copy machine, which is clearly not meant to be used as a desk and is not nearly big enough for anyone to work on. Still. Better than no desk at all, and a mediocre job is better than no job, even for a well-off guy as himself. Aaron wants to be in the place where things happen.

 

Not that he's here out of passion. The work, Aaron soon finds out, is all too mindless and boring in its entirety, and he struggles to make himself useful. He brings Alexander coffee (the man drinks just about his total weight of it every day), he makes smart and practical suggestions that get waved away with no second thought, he sits at his (ridiculously tiny and crowded, because Hamilton cannot stick to just one table and decides to invade Aaron's space) desk all day long with nothing to do. Being the assistant's assistant is exactly as prestigious as one would think.

 

Against all odds, he becomes Alexander's friend. Alex is easy to smile, easy to laugh, easy to get excited, easy to get annoyed with but easier to love. He introduces him to his friends, who seem to enjoy his company as much as they like ripping gums from the soles of their shoes, but Alexander is the bridge between them. Aaron has no particular opinion on John Laurens or Hercules Mulligan, or at least no opinion he'd like to share.

 

"Don't you think we should fight to get more funding for the rec center, though?" Alex asks during a slow afternoon, while Washington and Lafayette are attending a town meeting together. Aaron isn't allowed to join them because Washington doesn't trust him quite enough for that yet and Alexander was ordered to stay behind and work because Washington trusts him immensely already.

 

"Mmh."

 

"I mean, why don't we give our community the means to grow and learn and become better people? I'm taking six classes this year and I'm just learning so much, man, I think everyone should just be able to do the same."

 

" _Six_ classes?"

 

They are sorting papers in the courtyard because Alexander  _can't stand to stay inside in this heat, Aaron, we gotta take advantage of it, c'mon!_  


"US history, advanced economics, baking, organizing your work space, first aid and, erm, badminton." 

 

Aaron mentally notes that all of these are either superfluous, as Alex must know all about them already, based on what he's seen of him, or highly inefficient. He smiles politely.

 

"Sounds like you have a busy schedule."

 

Alex grabs a piece of candy (he eats these at a velocity Aaron never would have suspected), shoves it in his mouth, shrugs. 

 

"I like having stuff to do." He takes another one. Aaron wonders if he buys them in bulk. "Don't you take any classes?"

 

Aaron opens his mouth to answer by the negative but, against all odds, he spots a lady crossing the hall on the other side of the courtyard and the words die in his throat. Curly black hair a crown around her head, piercing eyes meeting his for a fleeting instant, the hint of a smile on her lips, she looks at him, then doesn't, and walks away, leaving Aaron struck by lightning on the spot. He wants to run, to find her, to talk more than he ever has before, talk more than he ought to, but he's unable to even lift a finger. Remotely, he registers that Alexander has asked something and it takes all the efforts in the world to refocus. 

 

"What was that?" 

 

"You were zoning out, I was just asking if you take any class at the rec center."

 

"Not at the moment, no," he answers. His thoughts are still on the woman, mythical as she is, an angel who crossed his path forever once. He chides himself for being so flowery. 

 

"Maybe you should," Alex says. He hands him a gummy bear, which Aaron waves away. "You could meet nice people. John and I actually met there."

 

  
_I've just caught sight of the woman of my life_ , he wants to say, _she is the only one I'd like to meet_. No doubt Alexander would understand, he who talks about his girlfriend Eliza almost as much as he talks about parks and city management and project funds. The man wears his heart on his sleeve. 

 

"Speaking of the devil!" Alex cries out over Aaron's shoulder and pauses. "What the hell happened to you, man?"

 

"Hey man, how's it going?" John Laurens says sheepishly. He is leaning on clutches, a cast on both legs. Alexander rushes to help him take a seat. 

 

"What happened?" Alex repeats. He gives Laurens a can of ginger ale and a handful of candy.

 

"I, er, I fell?" 

 

"You fell?" Aaron asks dubiously. The man is a sports teacher at the recreation center. He is not exactly the kind of person who just falls and breaks both his legs.

 

Laurens shrugs, takes a big sip of soda, and leans back comfortably. 

 

"You know that lot on Sullivan Street?"

 

"The construction pit?" Alex asks. Somehow he has all of Pawnee mapped in his mind.

 

"Yeah, that one. Well, I was getting home after practice the other day and, well, long story short, I fell and broke my legs."

 

"So _that's_ why you didn't show up at badminton yesterday!"

 

"I've been meaning to call you but I was super out of it, so I just thought I'd swing by."

 

"I'm glad you're okay," he answers and looks like he wants to play the nurse for Laurens but is restraining himself with all his strength. As a result, he is fidgeting and glances around nervously. Finally, he takes a breath and starts a rant. "It sucks so much, though, you know? Not just the broken legs, like, the pit itself is such an aberration. This is what I want to fix, that's why I got into Parks and Rec, we need more public funded green spaces and educative entertainment, right? We need to fix that pit."

 

"What do you mean?" Laurens asks.

 

"I mean that I will go to that location tomorrow, and we will fill in that pit, and then when that's done, we're gonna put a park on the land."

 

And Aaron knows Alex has found his first actual project in Parks and Rec. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The functions of the characters aren't really the same as the ones of the Parks characters they're closest to, but I have a story in mind for this and I'm just trying to make it work this way.
> 
> Note that ratings WILL change. As a whole, the main pairing will be Aaron/Theodosia, but others will make an appearance. 
> 
> Please comment and tell me what you like or what you'd want more of!


	2. The Subcommittee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sir, I'd like to form a subcommittee to work on building a park on lot 48."

Sometimes, Aaron uses his time in the Parks Department efficiently. Not just to work, although that too, and more than sometimes, but as a social experiment. It's not fascinating per se, but better than doing nothing.

Form a hypothesis. Run tests."Sir, I was wondering if you might give me five minutes of your time?" He asks Washington."Mmh."

 

He is leaning over a map of the National Park North-East of Pawnee and seems to be tracing new hiking routes. Aaron wants to test how long it'll take him to send any disturber on their way when he is busy at something he enjoys. He seen the Department Director's office: some picture of him posing with a huge fish he caught, two posters of landscapes of mountains, and of course, the hunting rifle ornating the wall that he polishes from time to time when the workload runs thin. Easy conclusion: George Washington enjoys outdoor activities. He should be reluctant to answer Aaron's interruption. Why Aaron enjoys testing out these social situations, he cannot say. Maybe he just likes to know how far a smile can take him, and how far it can't.

"I have a couple of suggestions on how to ameliorate the way the daily running of the department works, I think you would..."Collect evidence."Burr, I'm busy."

Test completed, results acquired: 17 seconds. Washington is a busy man.

 

Is he, though? When Lafayette approaches him minutes later, Aaron is on the edge of his seat. The French leans in to ask something about an afternoon off on Wednesday and Aaron counts how long that'll last. The expected outcome never takes place. Washington nods, whispers back a few words of approval that Aaron is too far to hear, and Lafayette goes on his merry way whistling like a little bird.

New hypothesis: Washington sends off people with an almost rudeness to his tone, _except_ _Lafayette_. 

 

"Aaron Burr! Ready to get started on step six of the Parks Planning Project?"

 

Ah, yes. Alexander has spent relentless hours building a foot long list of bullet points comprising all steps towards building a park on lot 48. A list he has sent to Aaron this morning at 5:12. How he managed to accomplish several steps already since yesterday when he made the decision that this was going to be his legacy to the Parks Department of Pawnee, Aaron doesn't know. Or how he sent it from his work address only accessible from City Hall computers. Or how he succeeds in looking perfectly professional and freshened up every morning when he's stayed up late and arrived early. 

 

"Of course," Aaron smiles. 

 

It is, after all, his job to assist Alexander with his projects, no matter how passionate he feels about them − sometimes not at all.

 

"Let me just get through step five real quick."

 

He trots off to George Washington with a smile on his face. Alexander is always motivated when it comes to hard work. Aaron starts counting again. _One, two…_  


 

"Sir, I'd like to form a subcommittee to work on building a park on lot 48."

 

Washington glances up − a first since he started working on his map.

 

"The pit on Sullivan Street?"

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

That prompts a pause. _Seventeen, eighteen…_  

 

"Son, this department has not built a new park from scratch for over a _decade_."

 

"Twelve years and six months," Alexander mutters under his breath, then louder, "Yes, Sir, I know."

 

"This won't be easy by any measure."

 

"I know."

 

"There is going to be a massive amount of red tape, not to mention raising funds. The department does not have that kind of money."

 

"I've already drawn up a plan," Alexander says, handing Washington a printed version of the long list of steps. "I think we could have the park built within the next three to five months by moderate estimations."

 

"I don't want this to strain the rest of the work at the department."

 

Washington is skimming through the list, his face neutral, but Aaron senses that Alexander is already winning him over.

 

"It won't, Sir, here is an approximate budget calculation I've made, I think you'll find the costs easily achievable. I've included several fundraising ideas. I just need a subcommittee." 

 

_Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty four…_

 

"Fine. Lafayette will join you and keep things in check."

 

Well then. The real verifiable hypothesis seems to be that George Washington doesn't mind interruptions _unless they're from Aaron_. He could have done without that kind of conclusion.  

 

Alex walks back to Aaron's tiny desk with a bright smile that Aaron returns politely. 

 

"Okay, step six now, c'mon."

 

As it turns out, Alex has a very clear idea of who he wants in his subcommittee, and he tells him that he just needs to take care of one more thing before they head out for the pit. He takes out his phone and starts typing, all the while keeping his eyes on Aaron as he leads them in some hall of City Hall that Aaron has never been in.

 

"So, what we're going to do is talk James into helping us."

 

"Er, aren't you looking at that phone?"

 

"Oh, I think it's rude to not look at people when you're talking to them. I've taught myself to speedtext without looking."

 

"… Right."

 

"Oh, look, here we are!" 

 

The door is closed. A plaque tells Aaron that this office belongs to a James Madison, City Planner. The name doesn't ring a bell, but Aaron has never been great with names.

 

"Who is James Madison?"

 

Alex looks at him like he's slapped him in the face.

 

" _James Madison_. The city planner. Do you not know who James Madison is?"

 

"Evidently I don't," Aaron says, hiding his irritation, or at least trying to. Whoever this James Madison is, he can't be an international celebrity that everyone is supposed to have heard of, can he? Alex looks like he wants to say something more, but instead knocks, shaking his head judgmentally. Aaron can almost feel him _tssk_ -ing internally.

 

"Hamilton." 

 

The man who opened the door and faces them is both intimidating… and not intimidating at all. He is taller than the both of them, bulkier and broad-shouldered and his earnest face is bearing what could be considered a scowl, but he also wears a striped cardigan that looks handknitted over a short-sleeved yellow shirt that makes him look older than he likely is. His eyes briefly cross Aaron's before fixating on Alexander like he is the last person he expected − or wanted − to see.

 

"James, I need your help," Alex says and lets himself in.

 

For an awkward moment, James Madison and Aaron make embarrassed eye contact, then Madison shrugs and joins Alex inside. Burr decides he would be better off witnessing this as well. Alex has already taken a seat, but as soon as he has Madison's full attention, he springs to his feet and starts pacing the room.

 

"I want to build a park on lot 48," he dives in without delay. "And I want you to help me."

 

Madison takes the chair Alex just left and takes in the information.

 

"A new park from scratch?"

 

"It's not unheard of," Alex retorts immediately, on the defensive already. "It's what the department is all about in the first place!"

 

"It is," Madison says carefully.

 

"I'm not asking you to plan it _all_ , I need your help with the technicals."

 

Alex hands him the list he's written and developed in just one night, which he analyzes carefully. 

 

"Mmh."

 

"I think targeting the citizens first and foremost would be our best bet at this point, and I was hoping to get your help with some good old propaganda, plus I know you've got an in with the City Council and I've got Angelica and I think that together we could…"

 

Madison raises a hand to halt him.

 

"I've heard enough, Alex."

 

Alex stops in his tracks, bewildered. 

 

"You're seriously not going to help?! How can you be so blasé about this?"

 

Aaron considers taking Alex by the arm and leading out of the room to avoid any conflict, but before he makes up his mind, Madison smiles. It's very subtle, fleeting, like his muscles are not used to work that way, but it's there.

 

"I _am_ going to help."

 

A second passes, another one, and James Madison finds himself pulled into a hug that he does not seem to have consented to. 

 

Half an hour later, there are seven of them on the side of that huge gaping pit on Sullivan Street. Aaron has asked to drive, but Alex has refused and he has feared for his life, and Madison's, and John Laurens' that they've picked up on their way, the whole ride to lot 48. 

 

"There it is…" Alex says, the contempt thick in his voice.

 

"Yep," Laurens says in the exact same tone.

 

There are these two, best friends in this life and the next ten ones, if that is possible, there is Lafayette, imposed by George Washington but motivated as any of them, there is James Madison, a tad less motivated but willing to help out a friend in need, and there are Alexander's girlfriend and her sister, who Burr does not know personally but has heard about so much and so often that he feels like he does.

 

"We're going to get that pit filled in, Alexander," Eliza says. "I believe in you."

 

Alex wraps an arm around Eliza's waist, gives her a kiss on the cheek. 

 

"Thanks, Betsey." 

 

"Ew," Peggy chimes in, before snorting when Alex jabs a finger against her ribs. "Look, we'll get it done. So long as you do most of the work."

 

"Alexander cannot do _most_ the work," Lafayette says, "Mr Washington needs him too much. We will be, how you say, cooperating together." 

 

Carefully, so as not to fall in, Alex sits down to glance down at the pit even closer. Eliza follows suit at once, resting her head on his shoulder, and after her Peggy. Laurens sits behind them, keeping a distance − he does not seem to want to reiterate his fall down there a second time. Aaron glances at Madison and Lafayette and is reassured to see that neither of them seem to be sitting down. 

 

"We'll be here to help you," Laurens promises. "And not just us, there'll be more of us once you've convinced people this is a great idea."

 

The pit is big and ugly and filled with vermin and trashbags but the way Alex looks at it, you would think he is actually seeing the green grass and the playground and the children running around and the happy puppies. It almost makes Aaron picture it too. 

 

"It's gonna take a little bit of extra work," Alex says, and everyone nods thoughtfully. "But why not try?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is starting to take shape, if you have any suggestions or comments, please let me know! Don't forget that fanfiction authors thrive on feedback.
> 
> The romance between Burr and Theodosia had to take a step back for this chapter because it was focused on the Parks plot, but it will still be present throughout the fic, don't worry, I got it covered.


	3. The Posters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She is a special sort of angel, one that hates the morning and needs her beauty rest, and gets adorably grumpy when she is woken up before her full eight hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take note that the rating has been changed. This chapter contains sexually explicit content.

The studio Alexander and Elizabeth live in is small, vaguely humid even in the summer and not very well situated in Pawnee. Their mattress lies directly on the floor because they haven't saved enough for a bed frame yet. They are facing north and have gotten used to living under artificial light only, because they sure aren't getting much sunlight. Their furniture is scarce − Alexander's salary from the Parks Department is often spent on ways to get even more work done and social workers such as Eliza aren't renowned for their thick pay. They could, technically, ask her father for help, but that would go against everything Alexander stands for. He will pay for every last trinket himself. And even as small and sparsely furnished as it is, and despite its position, he wouldn't give up their studio for the world. It's warm from being slotted between two bigger apartments, it's kept clean and as tidy as possible despite Alex's paperwork spreading everywhere in his tracks, and they've lived here together for almost a year now. Eliza has decorated it well, Alex has added his own touches, and it feels welcoming. It feels like home. 

 

What makes it home is his darling love, his sweet Betsey, his much, much better half. What makes every morning bright and shiny even when there is clouded thunder outside is just one glance at the angel by his side when he wakes up.

 

"Alexander, it's still dark outside, don't you _dare_ leave this bed."

 

She is a special sort of angel, one that hates the morning and needs her beauty rest, and gets adorably grumpy when she is woken up before her full eight hours. Her arms tighten around his waist, trapping him like a vice.

 

"Okay, okay…"

 

He manages to turn around in her grasp. If he's going to be lazy in bed, he might as well be looking at her. She's lying about the dark outside. The sun might not be up but there is plenty enough light to gaze at her scrunched up face craving to fall back to sleep. She won't, not with light seeping inside the room and her body wrapped around Alex's. He knows her too well. But behind all pretense of grouchiness, there is a smile hidden that Alex knows he can awaken. He gives her two kisses, one on each of her tightly shut eyes. 

 

"What are you doing?" She asks knowingly.

 

"Staying in bed," He replies, faking innocence, but his lips are put to better use than talk. 

 

There isn't a part of her that doesn't deserve his attention. Her hair, still lovely when it's a mess in the morning, her round cheeks, her eyebrows, the elegant curve of her jaw, her forehead crinkled in annoyance (which he knows is faked), her small ears… Everything is worthy of his kisses and he spreads them generously all across the face he knows so well. Her self-control lasts a grand total of fifteen seconds of his ministrations before her resolve cracks and she lets out a snort.

 

"You're insufferable," she says with the biggest smile. "It's too early and you know it."

 

"Peggy is coming over at seven."

 

Her eyes snap open. 

 

" _Peggy_? At _seven_?"

 

In truth, Alex pulled in more than a few favors to get Peggy to come over and get some work done on a Saturday morning, but it will all be worth it once he starts handing out the soon-to-be-printed flyers all around Pawnee and once lot 48 becomes a new hot spot for everyone to hang out.

 

"If she keeps her word she'll be here."

 

"Mmh, we'll see."

 

She closes her eyes again, yawning, and tries to get comfortable again to sneak in a little more sleep. Alex can't help tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and the smile she gives even though she's tired and grumpy is so sweet he can't resist repaying it with a kiss. She responds, if nothing else out of habit, but soon more than just that, the way their bodies are clasped around each other. They're young, they're in love, what is sleep next to what they have? At least, that's how he's always seen it.

 

"I'm going to be so mad when I'm tired all day because of you," she sighs, but she's already combing her fingers through his hair as his mouth finds the tender skin on her neck and nips. "No visible marks," she adds. Ever careful with appearances. 

 

There is nothing all that tired about her anymore, not with the way she's clutching him, his back, the nape of his neck, as if he was her rock, her safeboat. 

 

"My beautiful, _beautiful_ Betsey…" He whispers against her skin. 

 

Obedient to her request, he refrains from sucking the softness there, despite how much he wants for the world to see his love for her with their own eyes. Instead he leaves open-mouthed kisses, traces the dip of her neck, her shoulder, his fingers caressing what his lips have explored.

 

"So pretty…"

 

One leg hooks over his waist as she pulls him on top of her. The way her body feels under his, the way his erection presses against the heat of her even through too many layers of clothes, the way her arms circle his neck, coiling him into a breathless kiss, he will never grow used to this. She feels exhilarating every time.

 

"Fingers," she demands between kisses, fast and breathless, as if she was afraid some pastor was going to come and pinch her ear if she got too explicit.

 

He sits up to pull on her pajama shorts and the sight of his Eliza's legs all spread out for him, that's also a wonder every day. Her dark and large eyes are begging him to get to work. He has no time to spare, not one second, and his body covers hers again, leaning on one arm braced by her side. He pops two fingers into his mouth, coating them wet, and down they go, between her smooth legs. He knows how to coax the moans from her − he prides himself on being an expert on Elizabeth Schuyler. The pads of two fingers rolling on her clit, his thumb brushing against the warm wetness underneath, and he gets to collect the rewarding whimpers straight from her lips. 

 

"Good?" He asks, his mouth ghosting over hers.

 

"Uh huh."

 

A hesitant hand of hers tugs her top up the soft swell of her stomach, of her breasts, baring her for his eyes, always for his eyes only.

 

"Oh, yes, yes…" 

 

His kisses trail a road down that perfect landscape, pulling an already hard nipple into his mouth. She gasps, threading her hands back into his hair, and he probably can keep going at this, fingers and mouth, give her a nice and cosy orgasm before the real deal. The way her fingernails are almost scratching his scalp (unknowingly, he's sure, Eliza would be mortified if she knew she's hurting him, even if he admits he likes it) and rolls her hips against his fingers, she's getting really _into_ it. He can make it work. He picks up the pace.

 

"Oh, shi… Alexander…"

 

Ever cautious with her curses, his Eliza, even when she has her legs hooked around his hips, his fingers rubbing her, his lips circling her nipple. He's unbelievably, painfully hard, but not now, not before her. He needs to hear the cries, feel the clenching of her against his fingers, know she's ready for him…

 

And then the doorbell rings.

 

"Oh, crap on a turd!" Eliza cries out. 

 

Alex considers ignoring the doorbell, but it rings a second time, and a third, loud and insistent, and he has no other choice but to abandon the lovely woman in his bed. Painful as it is, he pulls on a shirt, tucks his erection under the waistband of his sweatpants and apologizes the best he can.

 

Eliza wants none of it.

 

"Alexander, God is my witness, come back to bed and finish what you've started or I will do it myself!" 

 

  
_Yes please_ , he thinks, _and let me watch_ , but there is so much work to do. 

 

Behind him a horrified gasp. 

 

" _Oh my god_ …" Peggy and Eliza say right at the same time and the exact same tone of their voices would be comical if this wasn't so embarrassing a situation.

 

"I, erm, I let myself in," Peggy says, her usual cocky voice down to an uncomfortable mumble, "You weren't answering the door, but I remembered I had a key. And then I heard, erm…"

 

"Good Lord…" 

 

Eliza scrambles to cover herself, completely mortified, as Alex stands between her and her sister, who is covering her eyes and holds up an arm to feel her way out of the room. There are a few seconds of horrified silence before Peggy decides to break it from their living room. 

 

"So, erm, about these flyers?" 

 

  
_Work mode engaged._ If they're not going to talk about this, let them not talk about it.

 

"Yes! I was thinking of turning them into posters that could be hung around campus and in youth gatherings, maybe girl scouts troops, reading clubs, and…"

 

"Libraries?" She suggests, cocking her brow. They both laugh out loud at the same time and the unease is mostly gone now, helped by the fact that Peggy seems to be ignoring Eliza tiptoeing behind them towards the bathroom, entirely covered by a tightly shut bathrobe. If the two Schuylers seem to be going the This Never Happened road, he might as well follow suit.

 

"The _library_ , really, Pegs, you know I wouldn't steep that low."

 

She punches his shoulder playfully and they sit down by the coffee table to get to work. The great thing about Peggy, one of the great things about her, is that she is _great_ for bouncing off ideas. Even when she is mildly sleep deprived and still a bit under shock. 

 

"I remembered you said we need to target different audiences," he tells her, "so these are my third drafts designed to specifically convince parents that the park…"

 

"Oh my god, Hamilton, what the hell?!"

 

"What?"

 

He looks down at the template he made last night on his laptop. What is wrong with it? He may be just an amateur when it comes to graphic design but not nearly bad enough to warrant Peggy's disapproving _tssk_.

 

"It's literally covered with text! It's a poster, not an essay, it's useless if people need to stand around in front of it for ages to get the info that's on it."

 

He scans the poster from top to bottom and doesn't see the problem. 

 

"How else am I supposed to convince people that a park is a good idea?"

 

In the bathroom, the shower is running and Alexander briefly wonders if Betsey did in fact finish what he started on her own as she promised. An enticing prospect, but he wouldn't mind having her by his side to help him defend his case to her ruthless sister. By the time the water stops running a while later, he's been backed into a corner, forced to make vastly more concessions than he thought he would need to at this stage of the project. Finally, he feels Eliza's hand warm against his shoulder and looks up to find her smiling softly, gently, and _okay, this is not the face of a sexually frustrated woman_. She sits down and her hand slides down to clasp his own. 

 

"What have you worked out so far?" She asks. 

 

"Peggy hates the posters!" 

 

Peggy sighs, flicking a candy wrapper at him − he bought a pack of Sour Patch Kids just for her, all the good that has done him. 

 

"I don't _hate_ the posters, li'l Hamster, I just think posters aren't meant to be novels."

 

"Ugh, _fine_! But if people oppose the park because they don't have all the info, then I'm blaming you," he pouts.

 

"That _is_ quite a bit of text on them..." Eliza admits prudently. 

 

"My own lady love is siding with you, now, look at what you've done!" 

 

The betrayal is lessened by the soothing circles her thumb traces against his thigh. 

 

"First of all, don't call her that, it's gross, second, keep the text to the flyers. Trust the expert, Hamsterdam."

 

"You major in communication and suddenly you call yourself an expert..." He grumbles, although some part of him can see her point, as much as he hates it. 

 

"What's it the teachers told you a million times? Show, don't tell?"

 

It's true. Alex has always written with authority, told the world how things should be. Rarely does he put himself in the mind of the readers, does he care about catering to their point of view so much as he cares about getting all his ideas out of his system, but it seems that the time has come. 

 

"Okay, what do I show them?" 

 

"Well, why do you think parents would like the park?" 

 

Alex gives himself a few seconds to think, but once he starts talking, he says it _all_. He tells them about the future he envisions for Pawnee on lot 48, the haven of peace and safety he wants to create. He talks about the joy of watching children play, of dogs barking as they run around, of people of all ages sharing the same space peacefully, of the softness of the moonlight on a late night stroll in the park, of the thrill of early morning jogs along its paths, and a million other things. And he pictures it all in his head, he really does, even though his explanations aren't nearly as good as what his mind sees when he tells Peggy and Eliza everything he wants. But in the end, all that matters is that the citizens see the same beautiful thing when they look at that pit.

 

He knows he's gesticulating and overstating the importance of it all, except that he _isn't_ , because a well run society starts with satisfied individuals, and where else to start than with the basic level of family? Maybe he's rambling, but he's rambling for a good cause he truly believes in. When he finally runs out of arguments, he notices that the two women haven't interrupted once. They've been staring at him with wide eyes, at first eating the candy but after a while just gaping at him. Not the usual treatment he gets from the Schuyler sisters.

 

"Well, fuck," Peggy lets out eventually. "I changed my mind, _tell_ them."

 

"Alexander, that was beautiful!" Eliza exclaims. Her eyes have a special twinkle to them he's never seen before. "I'm sure all the parents in Pawnee will love to take their children to the park."

 

She squeezes his hand, her gaze so loving it takes Alex's breath away. 

 

"That's _exactly what my poster said_ , by the way," he tells Peggy, not quite over her criticism. 

 

"Look, Hamtaro, when you named me the Communication Director of the park campaign…"

 

" _Which I didn't_."

 

"It was implied," she waves him silent. "When you named me, you tacitly agreed to let me make all advertising decisions with or without your consent."

 

He frowns, but she starts again before he can protest.

 

"So, I'll handle the posters, you guys handle the flyers. Put that all into text and your park gets done, buddy."

 

Eliza clears her throat.

 

"What about Alexander's speech?"

 

"Well, we can't exactly have him go around all of Pawnee and personally convince everyone, can we?"

 

Alexander smiles. He is always up for a challenge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you read this and enjoyed it, consider leaving a comment to tell me what you liked :) It really means the world to get feedback. You don't need an AO3 account to leave kudos or post a comment.


	4. Canvassing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weekends are for indulgences. Aaron considers himself a very moderate person and prides himself in being in perfect control of the way he treats his body, his appearance and his social interactions, but he has his limits, and these limits are reached by the time Friday night comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my entirely self-indulgent Burr domestic AU. Also, I entirely blame azulaludgate (find her on tumblr she's awesome) for Burr wearing a night shirt.

Weekends are for indulgences. Aaron considers himself a very moderate person and prides himself in being in perfect control of the way he treats his body, his appearance and his social interactions, but he has his limits, and these limits are reached by the time Friday night comes. 

It's not that his job is stressful, per se. He doesn't _hate_ it. He doesn't love the tiny desk, Washington's disrespect, Lafayette's taunts, the lack of meaningful interactions in his daily endeavors, the amount of work Hamilton forces upon him even outside of office hours, Laurens' constant presence in the Department and Peggy's snark, but aside from that, the job is _fine_. It's not like he is constantly feeling disrespected and set aside. It's not like George Washington is lapping up every word that proceeds out of Alexander's mouth and ignoring that Aaron said the exact same thing seconds before. These things are absolutely _not happening_. Oh, except that they are.

 

One thing is sure, when Aaron opens the door to his apartment on Friday night, he is urgently eager to unravel. Loud meowing welcomes him home.

 

“I’m back!” He calls out, as he does, even though no human has ever lived here with him.

 

He does, however, share the place with twelve beautiful cats. Sarah jumps on his back the second he leans down to untie his shoes − he cringes at the sharp pang of her claws, but he doesn’t want to risk having her sulking. He takes his cats’ feelings very seriously, thank you very much. When he drops down on the couch, four of them fight for the best spot on his lap and he is starting to forget about work already.

 

He could sit here forever, soothed by the purring of his beloved cats, but he eventually decides to pour himself a bubble bath that is just slightly too hot, with the bath salts he’ʂ been keeping for a special occasion (every time a week worth of work is over seems like a special occasion these days). As the hot water surrounds him, it makes him dizzy and it washes away all of Lafayette’s mocking smirks whenever Aaron remarks on any current affairs of the Department, it washes away Alexander putting down pile after pile of paperwork on Aaron’s desk, it washes away Aaron’s lack of advancement within the Department, though he’d hoped to climb through the ranks. It washes away everything that isn’t this bath, the comfort of his home, the quiet, and _her_.

 

He hasn’t talked to her yet, not for lack of wanting to. Counting from her first apparition across the inner yard of City Hall on that fateful, beautiful day, he has seen her a total of six times so far. He still has no idea what her job is, but she’ll appear on Tuesdays and Thursdays, just over there, barely out of reach. He has thought about checking the plate of her office to find out her name, and ideally stumble into her, but he doesn’t know for sure which room that is and he is constantly called back to work whenever he tries to break away to go check it out. He wishes he could at least call her by name in his own mind, if not in reality. Some day, he will walk across the yard when she is actually there, talk to her, hear her voice (which he believes is lovely, based on the rest of her person) and it will be the actual beginning of this thing that has already started for him. Some day, he will.

 

By the time he manages to steer his mind away from the most exquisite woman he’s ever seen, the bath has turned lukewarm. He steps out, puts on his night shirt, his warmest bathrobe (purple fleece, his guilty pleasure being that he owns a bathrobe for every day of the week − you can’t put a price on comfort), and his kitty slippers. Time for the nightly routine he has perfected over the years − you don’t get such a beautifully smooth face just by sheer genetic luck. Five layers of different lotions later, he might just be ready for his beauty rest, all freshened up and smelling like peaches, but he feels a sudden craving for muffins. _So be it_ , he thinks, _weekends are for indulgences_ .

 

There are few things as relaxing as lounging in your kitchen at night, weighing and pouring and mixing and finally watching the final products bake and rise just as expected. Timothy and Jonathan spring onto the counter to keep him company while Esther rubs all against his legs wherever he goes (he almost trips more than once), and the kitchen is filled with the scent of sweetness. This is another of Aaron’s weaknesses: he has a very sweet tooth when he allows himself to. Which is on unrestrained weekend nights, and not any time of any day like a certain Alexander Hamilton and his sugar addiction. What exactly is the nutritive value of a diet consisting strictly of candy and coffee? Aaron cannot say, but he can vouch for its raw energy supply: the man is _non stop_.

 

The effect of sugar on Aaron is pretty much the opposite. After just a few bites of a freshly baked muffin, he feels drowsy already and he is forced to renounce eating this whole batch tonight. Despite Sarah’s persistent meowing, begging to get a taste ( _Who raised this cat to crave cake_ , he wonders, before remembering that he did), he stores the rest away in the fridge and goes to bed.

 

On Saturdays, Aaron likes to sleep in as late as he can (which is usually pretty late), then stay in his pajamas, pick up a good book and spend his day at home and in another world at the time. He enjoys some leftover muffins, or whatever baked good he’s had on Friday (he cannot lie to himself, Friday late-night baking is a thing that he does more often than not) for brunch and whatever delivery food strikes his fancy for dinner.

 

As soon as he wakes up this particular Saturday, he knows that it won’t reach his standards of a Saturday well spent. It’s not that he is of a particularly pessimistic nature (although he can’t affirm that he is much of an optimist either). Rather, what tips him off is that he gets woken up by an insistent knocking on the door, as well as Ogden’s paws all over his face urging him to answer it. Aaron is fairly sure he knows who is at the door without even needing to open it. He still does open it, because technically he is only a subordinate at the Parks Department and there are things − or people − that just can’t be avoided.

 

“Thanks for agreeing to see me!” Alexander shouts as soon as Aaron so much as turns the knob. Or maybe he doesn’t shout and this is just what voices sound like before 10 am on Saturdays. Aaron wouldn’t know.

 

“ _Please_ , come in, make yourself at home,” he grumbles as Alex is already heading towards the kitchen table and spreading papers everywhere. He will regret that − Aaron Jr. loves paper, namely chewing on it.

 

“Aaron, I just had an idea that will move this entire project several light-years ahead, and _you_ are going to help me with it.”

 

“By all means, I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather be doing today,” Aaron says and takes the muffins out of the fridge. If he has to endure Alex’s hurricane through his house, he might as well do it with something to eat.

 

“Oh, are these muffins?” Alex asks but grabs one before Aaron even offers − he would have offered one, but he would have liked the chance to actually do it.

 

“What is this idea?” He sighs.

 

“’Anffa’in’,” Alex replies through a mouthful of muffin. He swallows and repeats himself. “Canvassing. The whole subcommittee, right now. Technically, this was kind of Betsey’s idea as well, but she spends all Saturday afternoons with her sisters and I couldn’t convince her to help me, so here I am.”

 

Canvassing is actually a fairly good idea. Convincing people through politeness and small talk, which Aaron shines at, testing the waters before launching the project for real: this is a very good and cautious idea, one so utterly unlike Alex that Aaron wonders where the trap is.

 

He finds out why this was all a mistake. Far too soon, Alex drags him along Sullivan Street and its neighborhood, knocking every door to ask everyone what they think about the idea of a new park nearby. Some people, Aaron can sweeten up, slip a pamphlet into their hand, which also serves as an invitation to the town meeting Alex is organizing tomorrow (which means the whole subcommittee is required to help, of course), give a compliment here, a smile there. These people, he knows they’re in Alexander’s pocket as well, because Alex can be very persuasive, charming smart and collected. He can _convince_ because he is incredibly eloquent. But then there’s the ones who are initially not so keen on the idea of a park…

 

“What do you mean, you don’t like parks?!”

 

Aaron grabs Alex’s arm, not quite sure if it’s necessary to physically restrain him, but not taking any chances after they left several houses with less than kindly words exchanged already. The poor lady who answered the door and was so kind as to grant them a few minutes of her time looks utterly lost now at his reaction. How many more people will Alexander fight with?

 

“They’re loud, and I just don’t like them…”

 

“Don’t you want what’s best for your children, ma’am?! Social interaction built through child play is an essential part of growing up into a healthy member of society, I just don’t understand why you’d want to deprive your children of such a unique opportunity to…”

 

“We perfectly understand, ma’am, your opinion has been noted,” Aaron intervenes before Alex makes a bigger mess than he already did. He hands the lady a pamphlet, trying to ease the mood, because this is a lost case and Aaron can recognize that. “Come on, Alexander, let’s go.”

 

“Your opinion is wrong and you don’t know what’s best for your kids!” Alex blurts out before Aaron can drag him out of ear reach.

 

Aaron resists the urge to face palm. Instead, he sticks a polite smile to his face and tries to make a quick exit.

 

“Excuse me?!” She asks. _Too late_.

 

Alex’s face drops and he mumbles some apology, pretending he didn’t mean anything by what he just said, but the damage is done.

 

“You think I don’t love my son enough if I don’t support your project? Is that what you said, sir?”

 

“Of course! I mean, no, er, of course not… _Aaron, help me!_ ”

 

Aaron steps in front of Alex, smiles and bows his head respectfully.

 

“We will be leaving you to your current endeavors, ma’am. Do enjoy your weekend.”

 

“No, wait just a second, you don’t get to say something like that and just leave! This town meeting of yours, when is it?”

 

She looks down at the pamphlet Aaron already regrets handing her.

 

“Next month,” Alex tries to say, but in vain.

 

“I’ll be there _tomorrow_ ,” she says with finality. “And I’ll tell everyone what a pretentious man you are.”

 

This time, Alex does the dragging away. He gets as far as he can from that house, almost running, and Aaron is almost out of breath when he knocks one more door. He is about to chide him, because really, haven’t they had enough of canvassing now, when John Laurens opens the door God knows how since he is still leaning on two crutches.

 

“Hey, man, what’s up, come on in!” He gives Alex the biggest smile, beckoning him inside, and Aaron decides that this means him as well. “Do you want a beer or something?”

 

“It’s 10:30 in the morning,” Aaron points out.

 

“Sure, thanks,” Alex says, and so they drink beer.

 

Laurens manages around fairly well, considering his condition. His house is a bit messy, but for all Aaron knows, it may just be in the same state as it usually is, and it seems clean, at least.

 

“So, about the meeting tomorrow,” Alex starts.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“ImayhaveangeredmanycitizenstodayandIneedyourhelptamingtheaudiencepleasehelpme?”

 

Laurens snorts.

 

“What did you do now?”

 

“That’s irrelevant. You’ll have to be the star of the show, alright? You can do that, I know you can!”

 

He looks at Laurens like he’s already the star, like he needs him more than anything in the world.

 

“Alex, you’re my best friend in the world. Of course I’ll help, I already said I would. Especially if that involves watching you shouting at the crowd and getting torn apart by an angry mob.”

 

“Hopefully, we won’t be seeing any of that,” Aaron comments dryly, but neither of them acknowledge it.

 

“Well, tomorrow is our best chance to make this park happen, then.”

 

“To the park!” Laurens cheers, raising his beer bottle.

 

“To the park!” Alexander and Aaron respond in kind.

 

And to the disaster that is the meeting to come if everyone who has felt personally offended by Alexander today comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you read this and enjoyed it, consider leaving a comment to tell me what you liked :) It really means the world to get feedback. You don't need an AO3 account to leave kudos or post a comment.


	5. Town Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Excited for the meeting, Aaron?”
> 
> “One could say that,” he ponders, “but one could be wrong about it.”

For the tenth time in as many minutes, Alexander peeks out of the room the subcommittee is hiding in before the town meeting. Aaron can almost see the sweat dropping down his temple.

 

“They all came,̛” he whispers to himself, again. “They’re all here.”

 

Calmly, Lafayette approaches him, laying a hand on his shoulder that Aaron is sure wants itself reassuring. They have a hushed conversation that he doesn’t catch, so he turns around to sit next to the rest of the subcommittee. John Laurens is busy texting aggressively and doesn’t seem to be bothered to actually participate in a conversation that doesn’t involve Alex. James Madison is seizing the opportunity to work on some papers and Aaron doesn’t want to intrude on that. He decides to join Alexander’s girlfriend and her sister, who have been chatting together since they arrived.

 

“Ladies,” he smiles, sitting down next to them.

 

“Well, if it isn’t Aaron Burr?” Peggy says with a smirk.

 

“Excited for the meeting, Aaron?” Eliza asks kindly. Everything she does is kind, it sometimes seems to Aaron, but he also only knows her either from Alexander’s praises or from brief mundane interactions with her.

 

“One could say that,” he ponders, “but one could be wrong about it.”

 

Peggy bursts out laughing.

 

“Well, glad to know we’re not the only ones who are not interested in this bullshit.”

 

Eliza frowns at her sister’s crude language.

 

“Oh, I trust he’ll make this _interesting_ ,” Aaron says with enough of a smile to say it all.

 

And Alex really does. He tries his best to do a succinct and efficient presentation of his project for lot 48, but within the first five minutes, several citizens he slighted stand up and ask for retributions. Things lead to harsh language, to exaggerations. From the podium, Aaron is at a strategic spot to observe it all, both the reactions from the subcommittee and from the citizens.

 

“That man insulted my dog!” An old lady screeches.

 

Aaron wants to snort but keeps his face perfectly professional. He remembers visiting her house yesterday. Her dog _was_ ridiculous, though “vicious kitten-sized demon” wouldn’t have been his first choice of insult. Alex has a way with his words, yet even he gets a bit overwhelmed as all the offended citizens start attacking him.

 

“He called my five year old stupid and uneducated in matters of federal law!”

 

“He told my daughter she should study the Constitution before she says parks don’t matter to our society!”

 

“His hair is too long!”

 

“I found half of a sandwich in a bag at the bottom of the pit and it had too much ketchup!”

 

Of the few virtues that Alexander possesses, Aaron wouldn’t count patience. The more citizens push on all his buttons, the more his resolve visibly flinches. He is starting to crack, little by little, and Aaron isn’t the only one to have noticed. Sitting in the first row, George Washinton is eying his protégé warily, his mouth thin, brows furrowed. If there is one thing Washington dislikes as much as Aaron does, it’s open conflict and every citizen standing up and raising their allegorical pitchfork brings everyone one step closer to fighting. As far as the citizens are concerned, this is already war. Alex doesn’t let himself get submerged, he never does, but his arrogance is worsening by the minute and it’s only a matter of time till he loses it, unless they get a distraction.

 

Aaron is about to take the mic from him before this all degenerates but as he makes to stand up and save Hamilton from civil war, the impossible happens. He sees _her_. She's sitting there, in the middle of the crowd, her back straight, face entirely neutral and _beautiful_ and she's staring right at him. Aaron falls back into his chair with an undignified thump. In her eyes, he already discerns intelligence, understanding, brilliance. As she realizes they've been staring at each other, he gives her a smile − the most genuine he's had maybe in his entire life. She returns it with a more modest one, reserved and close-mouthed, but it fits her, it suits her elegance and he feels like he knows so much of her already.

 

Aaron should know better than trust his fate to give him this one blessing. Right in front of her, a huge bulky man with a mustache and thick arms covered in tattoos stands up, covering up the lovely view entirely. Aaron tries to shift to the side, in vain.

 

"I'd like to call out the little turtlefucker right there," the man groans.

 

"Oh, shut up already!" John Laurens sighs.

 

"Every night I cover my kale, every time your fucking turtles come and eat them, I'm sick of it!"

 

He is waving his arms but not wide enough for Aaron to catch a glimpse of the beauty sitting behind him.

 

"I _know_ it's your damn turtles but I haven't been able to catch them red mouthed! I hate these beasts."

 

"Oh, cry me a river, you got outmatched by reptilians, fuck off…"

 

" _That will be all for now_ ," George Washington states loud and clear, standing up and towering over all angry citizens. "We will continue after a brief recess."

 

  
_This is my time to shine._ Aaron straightens his spine, flattens his shirt and practices his best smile, ready to greet the love of his life, but such is his bad luck that Lafayette grabs him to the side room for a quick (and sure to be angry) debriefing of the meeting so far. Next thing he knows, the whole subcommittee is under Washington's icy stare.

 

"This is not going well."

 

Alex keeps his eyes up and proud, unwavering, but as soon as he starts explaining himself, his voice is cracking a little bit and he sounds much less confident than he looks. Washington deflects all of his excuses and before long, poor Alex is backed in a corner and has to admit the meeting isn't a complete success.

 

"I just need to convince a few more people…" He says helplessly.

 

"You need to prevent a vote on the park," Washington says. "At any cost."

 

As always, he leaves little room for any alternate solution and Alex is left to self-pity.

 

"How in hell am I supposed to do that…"

 

"Figure it out, Alexander. That's an order."

 

Alex bites back whatever retort burning his lips and immediately starts brainstorming ideas with the group, Eliza rubbing his back reassuringly. Aaron smiles and pretends to be following along, but his thoughts are entirely taken somewhere else the whole time and he realizes he hasn't heard a word of what they said when they all stand up to get back to the meeting. Eliza gives him a gentle smile on their way out and Peggy pats his shoulder − maybe he did look spaced out to everyone else. Inside, his heart is an orchestra reaching the high part of an epic symphony.

 

"As some of you may be aware," James Madison begins as he takes the mic first thing once Washington announces that the meeting is starting again. "Its drainage is average but I have rarely observed a soil so…"

 

He goes on and on and on, under Alex's proud grin. So this is his plan to avoid a vote. _He is filibustering his own meeting._ At some point, Aaron believes he will have to stop being so surprised at Alex's oddities, but that time hasn't come yet.

 

In the same seat as before, the guy in front of her sitting and giving Aaron free view, _she_ is nodding along whatever info Madison is dumping on the fidgety citizens, as if she actually cared. A sign of great intellect, Aaron notes, or maybe hopes. But he is convinced nothing but greatness could come from her.

 

The filibuster is part train-wreck, part genius. Every time the citizens so much as try to intervene, Alex shushes them, and all members of the subcommittee get a turn at the mic. Madison's exposition on the lot's specificities may be boring, but afterwards, Eliza's presentation on how parks help young children interact nature in a busy city and the effect it has on impoverished populations in particular is excellent. Peggy's stand-up comedy is _unexpected_ to say the least, though not entirely unfunny, and John Laurens' talk on racial inequalities in the country is inspiring. Lafayette is just giving a very enthusiastic speech on America's greatness when Alex shoots up and interrupts him.

 

"Meeting's over!" He almost shouts. "Thanks for coming, bye, thanks for your support for this park."

 

He ignores all the citizens' remarks and rushes to open the door to invite them out. Aaron watches over the befuddled audience and estimates that roughly half of them seem satisfied with the meeting. There were after all some great arguments presented today. And above all, _she_ looks happy with it, which Aaron decides is all that matters. His heart is drumming as he makes his way down the podium to his destiny. To his pleasant surprise, she is also walking towards him.

 

"Aaron Burr," he says, and when she offers her hand to shake he pulls it to his lips and presses a kiss on it. "What can I do to help a lovely lady such as yourself?"

 

She takes back her hand, smiling politely. He's afraid he might  have overstepped her boundaries but the twinkle in her eyes says otherwise.

 

"Theodosia Bartow. I want to join your subcommittee."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you read this and enjoyed it, please consider leaving a comment to tell me what you liked :) It really means the world to get feedback. You don't need an AO3 account to leave kudos or post a comment.


	6. Whine and Cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whine and Cheese club, brought to you by the Schuyler sisters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter requires that you've read Honorary Schuyler Sisters and Back Up Again to get the full extent of the relationships and understand why Maria is in there.

 

Angelica doesn't like to say she's having a bad day, week, month. Every day is only as good as you make it and calling her day bad would be admitting her own shortcomings. Besides, it's not like a day can't be salvaged even when it does seem lost, with enough motivation. That being said, she can admit without the shadow of a doubt that every single day of the week has been complete shit so far.

 

"Good week?" Peggy asks before even giving her the compulsory hug between Schuylers when she sits in the passenger seat of Angelica's car.

 

Angelica snorts.

 

"Not really," she says.

 

"Good," Peggy says, and wouldn't that be harsh if this wasn't Peggy. "Me neither."

 

They ride on without saying more. That's the rule. Every Saturday, Angelica, Eliza, Maria and Peggy meet up to share what's been going on in their lives in what they call the Whine and Cheese Club. It ceased to be only about wine and cheese about two weeks after the inauguration of the first Whine and Cheese Saturday when it was Peggy's turn to bring cheese and she forgot. Now it's more of a Whine and Binge-Eating Club. The rule is that you're allowed to complain about your week as much as you want, but you have to summarize it with one lowlight only and you have to find two highlights to make up for it. And you can't vent or rant before that, otherwise it's cheating. Peggy is awful at finding only one lowlight. Eliza is awful at finding only two highlights.

 

They're meeting up at Eliza's today, which is just as well because Angelica doesn't have it in her to host today. Eliza, bless her, is always the best host out of the four − Peggy is too scatterbrained and relies on them to bring the food and the booze, Maria is too timid and buys ridiculously small amounts of wine, and rosé at that, and Angelica lives with an artist, so there is a slight chance that any food they bring in will contain paint. It has happened before. When Alex isn't present, Eliza always supplies the highest quality snacks, the best alcohol (though maybe too sweet and cocktail-y to Angelica's taste, but Peggy and Maria jump on the thing like they've never drank a glass of alcohol in their life), the most entertaining conversation. Angelica is glad that after a shit week like this one, they're at least at their best meet-up place and they're sure to have a small feast prepared. She's ready to get pampered.

 

Or at least that's what she thought. They're half-way there when Peggy's phone rings with the most obnoxious and silly alert. She grabs it from the bottom of her bag, checks it, and Angelica knows something's up before Peggy says a thing.

 

"Eliza forgot the food," she whispers, a nightmare to even suggest Eliza could have done such a thing.

 

"What? Eliza doesn't forget the food."

 

"Look!"

 

She shoves her phone under Angelica's nose − a fairly unsafe practice when your sister is driving − and there it is, plain as day.

 

_sorry sorry sorry can you pick up some snacks? forgot :((((( sorry!_

 

"She forgot," Angelica repeats, dumbfounded.

 

Is this another event piling up in her list of shit this week? They grab some chips from the nearest store (Peggy buys a couple more bags than Angelica deems necessary, but with her own money, so who can blame her for what she chooses to do with it?) and drive to Eliza's. Alex's car is not in the parking lot. That might have been an explanation if he'd been here. Alex can be very distracting to Eliza, as they've long learned. No such excuse today. Angelica longs to cautiously study that feeling inside her that something's odd and they hurry to Eliza's door.

 

"Food!" Eliza cries out as soon as they let themselves in.

 

She rushes to grab a bag of potato chips from Peggy's arms and slouches on the couch, tearing it open. Angelica blinks. It's like the two of them switched bodies. Still, she hugs Maria, Eliza, and sits down as well. The club is ready to begin.

 

Peggy starts to vent first, something about her assistant from work being incompetent and slowing down their project. She always takes up a good half of their time together so Angelica gets comfortable, reacts accordingly but meanwhile studies Eliza. Something's off about her today and she's determined to find out what. In a way, that's good, because it makes her forget about Thomas's oddities during City Council, about that fight with Cosway three days ago that they're still a little bit awkward from, about the possum thing, about Thomas calling her during the night today and how tired she still feels from that, about everything that went wrong this week. She doesn't even notice that it's supposed to be her turn until they're all staring at her. She takes a swig of wine.

 

"You go, Maria."

 

Maria, sweet Maria has nothing unfortunate to report, only mentions that Hercules and her had a delightful date on Friday and that she's found a new leather-bound version of Austen's works for a couple bucks at a thrift store. It's back to Angelica again, who gestures towards Eliza.

 

"Okay, good, my turn," Eliza says and starts on a rant.

 

Alexander and her fought over cooking, of all things, how much spice he put into it (he likes things extra hot and she was feeling a bit queasy this week), and he's been so busy with his park project (Angelica is hearing so much about it and should really look into the project earnestly) that he doesn't find enough time for her and it kind of all exploded from there, and he apologized and they had make-up sex over it (that, Eliza didn't say, but Angelica knows how to read between the lines), but she's still feeling vulnerable. On the plus side, he has an interview with the Pawnee Sun later this week and will probably get some visibility for the future park on Sullivan Street. That is so like Eliza, one of her highlights being all about him. Almost every week there's something about him that she's proud of and shares as what made her days worthwhile.

 

All the while, she's shoving chips down her throat (as is Peggy, this family really is a tad too gross for Angelica today, thank god for Maria), and when Peggy offers her wine to wash it down, she refuses and Angelica finally puts the pieces together. She cuts Eliza before she can get to her second highlight.

 

"Eliza, are you _pregnant_?"

 

Eliza gulps down the mouthful of chips she was eating, coughs a little, Maria rubbing her back through it. All eyes are on her, the tension thick as honey.

 

"Am I?"

 

"Oh my god!" Peggy says and she rushes to her feet, stumbling with the wine she's already drunk, and it's still early afternoon, their club really is nurturing bad habits, and collapses onto Eliza's lap to hug her belly. "A little baby!"

 

Maria is smiling from ear to ear, her hand finding Eliza's and Angelica can't not join that perfect trio. She sits down next to them and wraps an arm around Eliza's shoulders, her baby sister who is probably not so small anymore.

 

"How did you know?" Eliza asks. "I'm not even sure."

 

"We need a pregnancy test," Peggy begs. "Right now!"

 

She dashes out of the apartment before they can stop her. She doesn't even have her wallet. If past experience is any witness, she's going to be back in here with a pregnancy test in a few moments.

 

"Just a hunch," Angelica smiles.

 

"Was it…" Maria plays with Eliza's fingers on her lap. "Was it, you know, something you'd planned? With Alexander?"

 

Eliza chuckles awkwardly.

 

"Erm, not exactly."

 

Who would have guessed, Angelica ponders, that their sweet Betsey would be one to get knocked up on accident? She hugs her a bit tighter.

 

"That's amazing news," she says. "Three aunts for the price of one."

 

Eliza finally looks up and her eyes are so full of doubt − a reminder that grown-up as she is, she'll always be Angelica's little sister.

 

"This _is_ good news, right?"

 

"Oh, Betsey, sweetie" Angelica pulls her into her to kiss her brow. "It's the _best_ news. What'd Alexander say?"

 

"I, erm, haven't told him."

 

"Eliza, you need to tell him!" Maria says, appalled.

 

"I'll tell him," Eliza says nervously, then more seriously, she repeats. " _I'll tell him._ "

 

As expected, Peggy barges back into the studio in no time, holding up a pregnancy test like it's a blessed relic. She presents it to Eliza with a bow.

 

"The test only requireth thy pee, my lady," she says with a ridiculously inaccurate English accent that makes Eliza and Maria snort.

 

Eliza accepts the little plastic bar, stares at it a while before standing up, her face determined.

 

"Don't follow me!" She says before they can even try. "I can't pee if you're all there at the door."

 

As soon as she's gone, Peggy takes her seat on the couch, pulling Maria and Angelica into a soul-mending hug.

 

"We're gonna be aunties, you gals!"

 

She has a million ideas of what to do with the baby once it's there, and all of them involve novelty T-shirts. Maria hasn't stopped smiling − Angelica knows that she's very fond of children, with her work at the library. And Angelica herself, well, nothing could make her happier than Eliza's smile when she walks back into the room, her eyes on the pregnancy test.

 

"So, what's it say?"

 

She hands over the test to Angelica and all four of them look down at the result. There's a moment of silence when they take it all in, this definite proof that this isn't just Angelica sisterly hunch. Then Peggy breaks it.

 

 

"SCHUYLER BABY CONFIRMED, BITCHES!" She shouts before tackling all of them into a cuddle pile on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you read this and enjoyed it, please consider leaving a comment to tell me what you liked :) It really means the world to get feedback. You don't need an AO3 account to leave kudos or post a comment.


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